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"If we look for reasons to do things other than for ourselves, we would also look for excuses not to, especially in situations where a certain amount of sacrifice is required of us. Thus we actually create within ourselves, obstacles, limitations, difficulties and delays in our efforts to achieve a better life."

The truth is, when we do things for others selflessly, without having any reasons to do it and only because we have to do it and it"s the right thing to do, and without expecting anything in return, we create a totally new dimension in our own lives, an elevation and extension of the previous one, filled with a sense of love, peace, harmony, happiness, contentment and everlasting joy.  These feelings will come from within us, and will remain in us, regardless of any shortcomings in life. They are not dependant on other people or materialistic gains, which grant only superficial and/or short-lived gratification."

I had written this in an earlier post "Selflessly Devoted To You"; I had experienced this new dimension since becoming an alternative medicine practitioner back in the year 2000 but was never able to, or rather never attempted to crystallise the thoughts in words until I joined the street feeding programme with Reach Out some time in 2010.

Many things materialised when I started serving people the only way I know how..through healing. But the path leading to this had been painful and difficult - I was tested spiritually, mentally, emotionally, financially and physically. Yes, I have only myself to blame for having made many mistakes and bad decisions in my life, and thus had to bear the consequences from my actions. 

I had also been tested to the limit with vicious accusations, unkind rumours and betrayals. But praises only to Allah, He had plans for me. He had put me on a treadmill to strengthen and toughen me up. I was put in a "universal classroom" to learn the many, many lessons about life, about people, about feelings and about..the power of love.

The heart, or more accurately, the Qalb is the  keeper of our deepest emotions -
passion, mercy, kindness, love.

Many will brush aside the word "love" and expressions of it, deeming it whimsical, immature and unimportant. But love can take on many forms, and it is up to us to seek knowledge on the truth to find and experience true and lasting love. Powerful love that can move, change and create things. I love to express, learn, read, write, listen and talk about love. And I would do it unabashedly, shamelessly and endlessly. 

Love should elevate us to higher levels in all facets of our lives. If it keeps bringing you down, it is not worth the time nor the sacrifices.

Love should be constructive, not destructive. If it is destructive it is lust, it is a weakness in ourselves, hoping and depending on a mortal.

Love should be giving not receiving. The more you give, the more you receive.

Love is a powerful elixir that heals.




This is Sepet. Sepet is a homeless cat. He is lean and mean, with old scars and new cuts and  scratches all over his face and body. These are possibly remnants of past fights and struggles to get bits of food from wherever he could get himself to, in order to survive. And he smelt bad, really bad.

Sepet decided to occupy the territory which was once dominated by Bob, another homeless cat who got his meals from a few houses within our street. Unlike Sepet, Bob is sweet, adorable and docile, and handsome with beautiful green eyes. When Sepet invaded his territory, they fought violent and ferocious battles, often leaving chunks of fur and blood all over the floor.  

Finally, gentle Bob conceded, and was forced to build his new territory further down the road. I was terribly upset by this. Not only did Sepet antagonise Bob, he also terrorised Kenny, my pet Burmese. When she gets upset, she shows it by excreting just about anywhere in the house. With his presence around the house, Kenny had stopped coming downstairs and seemed nervous, hesitant and jumpy. She'd even growl when I tried to pick her up.

With Sepet spraying his pee in various places around the house to signify and establish his territory, things were getting very unpleasant, and needless to say, the odour was unbearable. Being a street cat, Sepet's survival skills are excellent. Sepet would dart into the house at lightning speed, or very silently sneak in depending on the situation. He can open the sliding door and the heavy paneled windows, and occasionally I would find him sleeping on the dining room chair. 

I had had enough. I was set on catching Sepet to send him away to SPCA. Until one day, my husband looked at Sepet, then solemnly at me and said, "Sepet is so thin you can see his rib cage. He behaves in such a way because he's very hungry. I know how that feels."

I know how that feels...I was stunned and went cold. I felt my heart become heavy like a stone in my chest. Then I cried. And cried and cried. I cried for my husband's past, I cried  for Sepet, I cried for all the other hungry people and animals in the world who go for days without food and a home. And even when I write this, I am continuing to cry

I  immediately regretted my actions and felt ashamed of myself. How could I have been so heartless? My anger with Sepet over what he had done to Bob and Kenny got the better of me and had clouded my good sense. 

I started seeing Sepet in a different light and started feeding him. In the beginning, he would distance himself from me as I approached him. He even hissed at me if I tried to get too close. While he ate, he'd keep looking up and around him. I can't be sure if it was to make sure there were no other cats coming for his food, or to be sure that there wasn't anyone who might chase him away or worse, beat him. 

A few days later, I noticed that Sepet had started to come and actually ask politely for his food. He stopped sneaking in, and would sit patiently outside the front door meowing instead. He would only attempt to come in if I am late in serving his meal. He would still hiss when I bring down his plate to him, but he appeared to be less fearful of and less hostile towards me. 

In less than two weeks after I started feeding him, Sepet would brush against my leg as I bring his plate out. The hissing stopped completely, and he'd even let me stroke him. He would even let me treat a deep gash on his ear. Kenny too was more relaxed when she saw him, and occasionally the both of them would sit at the porch, while keeping a safe distance between each other.

By the time I'm writing this, Sepet is totally comfortable with me. He'd drop to the ground purring and stretching at my feet, and sometimes even playing a little.  But having lived as a stray, he can't help but still have natural tendencies to misbehave. Often, he'd break into the house through the windows at nights.  When he does, and when we catch him, we don't need to chase him out or even say anything. He would casually walk down the stairs and head towards the door to be let out. Sepet in not just street-smart, he is also very intelligent.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It must be two years since I wrote this post, but never completed it and published it until now. I'm not sure why I never finished it. But since having recovered, well almost recovered from a long illness, I felt the urge to open this blog again. Kenny and Bob have since passed on to a new life, and Sepet has left the house. I haven't seen him in a while.

I have a few other posts written halfway actually, but decided to complete this particular one. Because I kinda miss Sepet, and often wonder how he's doing. He has left a huge lesson for me, a lesson to always be kind and compassionate to every being, regardless of how they treat us or what they've done to us or how they behave. My tears continue to flow for Sepet and all the hungry ones out there.  



 



A brand new day, a brand new year, and a brand new eye.

It's the first day of 2017 and it's a good reason to make an entry in this almost-abandoned blog. It's been a busy year, but a very limited vision was the main reason I was not writing as much as before, as much as I wanted to.

On 21 December, 2016, I received a new lens in my right eye. I had gone through an emergency operation to remove the cataract that had become thick and dense, and which had led to acute glaucoma. The eye has fluid going in an out through a "drain" but due to the cataract, it was blocked causing pressure to build up. The result is intense pain and discomfort due to the tension. The pain had caused my systolic blood pressure to hit 208. Tests done by the doctors-on-call later showed that the pressure in my right eye was 60 against a normal pressure of 20.
My right eye before the removal of the cataraxt which was very visible. According to Dr. Haliza, it is usually sparsed but mine was centred at the pupil of the eye. The doctors in HUKM believed that the severity and the speed the cataract had progressed could have been induced by an injury or trauma. Their suspicion was correct - .I had, a couple of times at least, accidentally sprayed very high pressure water from a rubber tube directly to the eye while working at the bee farm.


I had been advised to go to the Emergency section of the Hospital University Kebangsaan Malaysia (HUKM) by my optometrist friend, Asoc. Prof. Dr. Haliza Mutalib. I had lamented to her that the brief and mild pain which had started just a day before, had become consistent and more intense since dzuhr that day. I must say that Dr. Haliza was my primover when I was in that vulnerable situation. When I had visited her for a check-up earlier, she had told me the bad news that I couldn't wait any longer, I had had to get the cataract removed immediately. She had referred me to the top specialist in HUKM, but due to the large number of cases, I only managed to secure an appointment in mid-January. But my eye couldn't wait...the cataract had to be removed immediately and I was put on top of the prioroty list for surgery, but the pressure in the eye had to be reduced first.

I'm so thankful for the love and support I received during this time, especially from my only daughter Marzia who doted on me while runnng around with errands. My husband and son were not there physically but I had felt their strength throughout. My sisters, sisters-in-law, nieces, uncles, aunties and cousin had made time to visit at the hospital, and made me feel so blessed. 
I was given medication through IV which only reduced the pressure a little, in addition to some oral medication. On the second day I was given the oral glycerol and after two doses of this ultra-sweet substance that is used to draw fluid from the eye through osmosis, the ocular tension drastically reduced and I was quickly put on the operation table. Because of Dr. Haliza's reaasuarances and confidence in the HUKM doctors. I actually found myself looking forward to the surgery. The loss of vision had made me quite miserable the last few months.



If you look carefully, you'll see a figure sitting by my bed while I was almost oblivious to my surrounding. I'm not sure if it was because of the pain or the medication I was given. That's Dr. Haliza, the first person to visit me while in hospital. She knew the type of pain I was in, and had massaged my head which gave me so much relief. Just her presence was such a big relief.

Dr. Haliza was so right about the opthamologists and doctors in HUKM. I must say they were very profesional, even the Medical Officers. The nurses too were so attentive, helpful, efficient and kind. The service was at par with private hospitals and facilities, being a teaching hospital, I believe are no match. I was put through various tests and checked by three doctors at least each time, but I didn't mind being a case subject.


I am now recuperating and my vision is slowly but surely improving day by day. I was in denial and was hoping that the cataract could be treated like other diseases without having to go through surgery. It couldn't.

Merdeka! Merdeka! Merdeka!
31st August 2015

The Zain Ahmed sisters celebrating Merdeka Day like only they know how! How proud and happy we felt to be Malaysians...and sisters.


Being a future beneficiary of a (small) piece of land in the majestic state of Kelantan, I began to feel I finally belong here. I have always loved Kelantan, but having been born and living in KL and Selangor all my life, there was nothing much to attach myself to it save for some relatives remaining. Suddenly I feel an immense sense of pride and belonging, and I wanted to do something special for the coming Merdeka Day.

And I wanted to do it in style. I wanted to capture the moment for us, my sisters and for our children and grandchildren and great, grandchildren to see and remember. Wednesday the 26th of August, the second day we were in Kelantan, my sisters and I had dressed up in traditional Malay fashion and...we made it happen. The sweetest and most memorable gathering of four Zain Ahmed sisters at the site of a Sultan's palace. No less.


This is Istana Jahar, once the home to DYMM Sultan Ahmad 
ibni Almarhum Sultan Muhammad II (Sultan Bibir Merah). 
This information was provided by a Facebook friend from 
the Kelantan Royal family, KijangMas Perkasa
The Sultan was his great, great, great grandfather. 
This beautiful Istana is in immaculate condition 
and has now been turned into the
Muzium Adat Istiadat DiRaja Kelantan.

It was so spontaneous...the idea came when I was packing my bag the night before our flight to Kota Bharu. I was actually a bit surprised by my sisters' response to my suggestion - they were all game. Such great sports they are. Despite the very short notice, it turned out just wonderful, if I may say so myself.


I guess these city girls were just so desperate to look like the typical sweet and demure Kelantan damsels hahaha!! Regardless, we were all so very happy and had so much fun doing this together, in the spirit of family togetherness and patriotism.

We're all rather generous in size so the point of interest in this pix is almost covered. It's actually a Perahu DiRaja which was used by the Sultan himself as a mode of transport. If we had been allowed to do so, we would have jumped in it to have our picture taken by Amir.

A curio shop in the Museum compound. Too bad they didn't sell little hand-held Malaysian and Kelantan state flags. We were overloaded on nationalism that day.

Beautiful architecture that is part of the Malay heritage we are so proud of. All the pictures here were taken by Prof. Azni's son, a professional photographer. He was actually the main reason Azni planned this trip. I had always admired his work and had been very confident that he would carve a name for himself. True enough, he is now relatively well known, and had just completed an assignment in Brunei for a Royal wedding. It isn't easy to engage him - his schedule is extremely tight. So I thought this would be the perfect opportunity to be photographed by him. Next time, when he has become famous, I can say that I have been photographed by Amirul Hilmi Ariffin heheh. These were taken using a high-end pocket camera, as unfortunately he had yet to unpack his equipment. But that's okay, he had already captured the moments I had wanted.     

At the entrance of the Istana. I could almost hear the nobat playing. Isn't it uncanny that His Majesty's name is coincidentally the same as our late grandfather's, who's land we're about to take over? Sultan Ahmad, Hj Ahmad and of course not forgetting there's also Ahmad Cendana.

This is the entrance to the building next to the Istana. I'm not quite sure what it was...by this time we were all famished and didn't explore any further. We headed to the famous kopitiam White House just nearby and tucked into what else...delicious nasi dagang wrapped in banana leaf. We were still in our garb and no one batted an eyelid. That's the wonderful thing about Kota Bharu...the Kelantan women take pride in their beauty and looks. Many of them are meticulously made-up and well-dressed even in the market, adorned with gold accessories.
From the beginning right to the end of the very brief trip, I had a marvelous time being with my sisters and relatives here in our ancestral land. I treasure these moments, their unconditional love and Allah's unexpected bounties. The more I want to do, the more I want to give, the more I get. Now if that isn't magical, I don't what is.

A couple of days ago I had seen a poster on Facebook that read, "If you have family, you have everything. "

It couldn't be more true. Like most other people, I couldn't imagine my life without my family. They are one of my biggest blessings from God, my husband and children. I am utterly grateful for them.

I am also blessed with three wonderful sisters with whom I had become very close with ever since the demise of both our parents. My late Mama had always made sure that we sisters remained close to each other. She wouldn't hear of any squabbling between any four of us, and had made it clear that the younger ones had to always respect the older ones. 

Mama would always insist that the whole family meet at least once in a month. As we grew older it got more difficult as each of us had greater responsibilities and lesser time, so gatherings were usually planned only on special occasions such as birthdays and anniversaries, and of course during eid celebrations.

Mama and her four daughters.

After Mama passed on in 2011, we continued to gather albeit less frequently. But when we did, it was always joyous and filled with fun and laughter. Our last gathering which was held six days ago, was that and much more....it was one that I would remember for a long, long time. 

Prof. Azni, my eldest sister, is always the busiest working.  My second sister Datin Aimi, is always busy travelling. But last Tuesday the 25th of August, all four of us had made time to meet - in our hometown in Kota Bharu, Kelantan.

We had some matters to resolve - land inheritance from my late father which had us feeling exceptionally allegiant towards the state. My parents, both of whom were from Kelantan had left their birth place to start a life in Kuala Lumpur in 1963. That was the year I, the youngest sibling, was born, so there had been some detachment over the years. For me, now that I have a stake here, I am so glad that I could claim my right to call myself a Kelantanese.

A caricature of my late grandparents done by my uncle Ayoh Mae. Both passed away on the very same date, 6th of September, twelve years apart.

This is said to be the home of my grandfather.  Looking at this, I feel so proud of my father who came from such a humble beginning, then made his way to KL and out of "poverty". In inverted commas because his parents, my grandparents, were poor in cash, but had plenty of land. 




Our first day in Kota Bharu was spent viewing the pieces of land in question.  I had been particularly keen on the fruit orchard situated in Beta Hulu. It would make an ideal spot for a farm should I have enough resources to expand my meliponiculture activities in the future. It was a difficult decision - there were other lots to choose from which have a road frontage and would have a much higher commercial value. But I reckoned that is not what I want. I have had the opportunity to experience farming at my sister Aimi's farm and I just love it. That is what I really want to do - farming. The earth grounds me...that is where I will be laid in final rest.


The path towards the orchard which we didn't know was infested with leeches until we had almost reached the end. Two sisters didn't make it; they turned back when the leeches started to creep up their shoes. Aimi braved herself and followed me into the unkempt orchard which looked almost like a jungle. Later she jokingly mentioned it was to give me support. I took that seriously though, because that is what she has always been to me.
  
While Yan was screaming leeches I had gone into the orchard on my own and took a walk around alone to feel the energy within that space. I loved it there. Apparently, I wasn't alone after all...hahaha!! Just look at the size of the rubber tree next to me. Note: I am at least two times bigger than the average Malay woman. 
From left, Yan, me, Prof. Azni and Datin Aimi with Nik Azhan, our first cousin who knows most about all the plots of land belonging to our late grandfather Hj. Ahmad. He must have been quite influential here; a stretch of road in Kadok was gazetted as Selekoh Haji Ahmad after him.
My grandfather Hj Ahmad. This picture was taken by my late father. I carry his name in mine.



Some beautiful images taken by Amirul Hilmi Ariffin of my kampung.

A caricature of the four of us by a very witty uncle of ours whom we affectionately call Ayoh Mae. It's a depiction of the scene we created when the leeches started coming, according to his imagination. 


The visit to Kelantan this time was different from the others. It was a day I reconnected with a part of my family history which I had never really learnt of. I had felt prouder, stronger, yet so humbled by the reality of it all. This is family. This is me. And praise Allah, I have everything.
















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